Murkthralog

Information

Player: Thoradin

Character Full Name: Murkthralog the Man-Slayer

Character In-Game Name: Murkthralog

Nickname(s): Manslayer, Murk

Association(s): Thrall's Horde(After Internment), Bloodsworn Honorguard, The Bleeding Hollow Clan, Old Horde (Up to Internment)

Race: Orc

Class: Warrior

Age: 73

Sex: Male

Hair: Grey, messy in the back with a twin pair of braids coming down onto his chest.

Eyes: His eyes are a dull red.

Weight: 265 lbs

Height/Scale: 6'4"/1.0

Appearance

Garments/Armor: He wields a magical axe called The Manslayer, it has been enchanted to boost his stamina and endurance, to help combat his old age.

Personality

Murkthralog is, at first glance, an old, tough, orcish war veteran. He'll most likely punch you in the face just for a wrong look at him. However if you truly get to know the old coot you'd know that he is a pretty swell guy. And by swell I of course mean that he'd still punch you in the face, but he'd at least help you back up from the ground.

Murk has also grown distrustful of many things as his old age continues to advance on him. He is also trying to actively dispense what wisdom he has and any great stories from his own life, in an attempt to keep his legacy alive after himself.

Alignment: Chaotic Good

History

In Southern Talador, now known as Terokkar, Groulthralog the Breaker had his fourth son. The other three, Hurthralog, Kothralog, and Kilwathralog, were only a year apart each. Murkthralog was born into a large family of the Bleeding Hollow clan, growing to learn its ways and traditions. Upon his tenth birthday, his father gifted him an older axe, made of basilisk bone. Murk cherished his new weapon, making sure to keep it clean and sharp at all times.

Shortly after receiving his birthday present, Murkthralog's family was wandering with several other clan warriors near the border of the great Draenei city, Shattrath, in search of game. They found the tracks of an aging clefthoof and decided to follow. After a few short days of following, they found the beast. It wasn't long until the war-party prepared themselves to attack it. Murkthralog's father even put on some special war-paint on his child's face, to protect him in his first hunt. It happened so fast, but when it was done, Murkthralog had found himself dangling from his axe, lodged deep into the neck of the great beast. His clan mates and family cheered for him, allowing him to believe he had the final blow and killed the animal. They feasted in such a way that night, Murk has never been able to fill his belly like it since then.

About seven years later, Murkthralog was a part of a War-Band traveling through Nagrand. He had just met his first love, Ignia, who had accompanied the group. Then suddenly a Mountain Gronn attacked the group, grabbing two of the warriors and Ignia before he managed to scamper off back to the mountains. The War-Party collected their heads for a moment and then soon took off after the Gronn. Once they finally trailed the bastard to his cave in the peaks they looked around for their lost Party members. Almost immediately they saw two corpses, one was unidentifiable. The other was female and ripped in half. The rest of the party charged inside the cave to attack the Gronn while Murk sat and stared at what was-to-be his mate. In but a moment his eyes widened, he grabbed his Ogre-Bone axe and charged inside. His clanmates had managed to sever an arm of the Gronn during the fight, bringing the beast down, close to the ground, in great pain. They fought against the beast for what felt like hours, though in reality was no more than ten minutes. The great beast began to have trouble, keeping its weight on one arm and trying to attack at the same time. It eventually fell over, thrashing to force itself back up. Murk glanced at the severed arm, it made a near perfect ramp. Murkthralog, in his rage, ran up the lifeless arm, stepped onto the shoulders of a clanmate and jumped into the face of the Gronn. In one swift motion Murk forcefully punched the Gronn through the eye and past the bone into the brain, where he grabbed it and then squished it in his hand. Needless too say the bone was fairly strong, nearly shattering Murk's hand in the process.

Three years later, Murk was once more sent out in a War-Party into Northern Terrokkar. It was there they were assaulted by a band of crazed Arrakoa. It was a vicious fight as members were felled on both sides. It soon turned to the side of the Birdmen, as they used their magics to knock the remaining orcs out cold. A few hours later, Murk awoke to find himself in a crude bone-cage that looked like it was made recently. He and the surviving clanmates managed to break free from their cages and sneak through the Arrakoan village. Eventually, they were found out as one of their wounded was swooped up by one of the giant birds that fly around. Needless too say they booked it out of the village and swam down stream and quickly began to climb down from the mountain.

Murk had, at this time, met another orcess, one he fancied very much. The two became mated, though they had little time to work on a family, as the Clans began to unite and gather. The rage came several years later. Murk's clan began to change, most of them. His father, brothers; orcs he had known his whole life, including himself, began to give way at a burning fury that writhed deep from within. The shamans, now called 'Warlocks', informed the clansmen that the Draenei are to blame. Famine, drought, ill-tidings, bad omens. The Draenei had to be put to the axe, the sword, and the mace. Mindless hate filled Murkthralog has he and his clanmates cheered on and rushed forwards to the City of Lights in Terrokar. The battle raged long, fires lighting up the night sky as buildings and people of all kinds burned. Murkthralog didn't care, the Draenei were to blame. It was their fault for everything bad. This unknown hate caused Murk to cut down women and children, before being stopped by a Vindicator. He stood tall, proud, and armored like the rest of his order. However, the armor made him slow, and that great crystal mace of his even slower. His head was rolling moments after Murk charged him.

The fabled City of Lights burned, great pillars of smoke rising into the sky for days on end. Yet even when all was done, Murk felt no peace. His blood only boiled, his rage tempered hotly. No, Murkthralog only felt the need to kill more. Draenei, Arrakoa, Ogre, or Sporelings, it mattered not. His only thought was to maim, murder, destroy, and the other unspeakable atrocities that endless war produces. Village after village, refugees, survivors from this attack or another. Murk's blood haze grew strong like the rest of his kind.

The Bleeding Hollow Clan heard and answered the call of Gul'dan and charged through the Dark Portal. Murkthralog and his family charged right on through with them. Following his clanmates, Murkthralog was at the first battle for Stormwind City. It was there he saw his father and eldest brother, Hurthralog, cut down by a Human Knight in shining armor. Murk himself narrowly avoided being slain if it weren't for an Ogre randomly swinging and bucked the knight about 20 feet from his steed.

Realizing what happened, Murk quickly ran to the body of his father to see if he was alright. However the gash was deep in his chest, and he was already gone. He collected his father's war-axe and quickly retreated with his clanmates who had begun to fall back. Murkthralog met up with his brothers, Koth and Kilwa. The three of them sat quietly in the Morass as their Horde regrouped. They decided as a group that their father's axe would remain with Murk, though Murk still never understood why.

Murk and Kilwa went along with the Horde to crush Stormwind for the final battle of the First War. Murkthralog killed nearly about six human soldiers himself! In-fact during the celebration of the defeat of Stormwind, Murkthralog met up with his mate, who had come over from Draenor. Nine months later, Dunthra was born.

Skipping to the battle for the Thandol Span. Murk and Kilwa were rising through the ranks of their Clan as they slaughtered the Humans on the large bridges. In fact he and his brother were getting cocky during the battle. And during a brief pause of battle, Kilwathralog rushed forwards with several Orcish Warriors. Needless to say they were maimed by the Human Forces. Murkthralog was deeply hurt by this, seeing that his brother was slain. Murkthralog soon went up into a Rage killing a good 10 Humans before a mortar shell landed a few feet away, blasting Murk into the ranks of his allies. Thankfully his mate dragged him to safety and patched him up. He rested there, in the care and company of his mate and son, Dunthra.

A wounded Murkthralog and kin moved with the Horde as they were slowly being beaten back across Lordaeron and Khaz Modan. He tried his best to hide his family, but to no avail.

Soon enough, as well as most of his race, Murk and his mate and child were captured and sent to an Internment camp. Murk's mate came back out of the blue one day with a small orcish child. This child knew only his name and that he didn't know where his parents were. So, out of pity, Murkthralog adopted a 2 year old Kathorg. Internment life was hard and something not suited to this orcish warrior. He tried the best he could for his children. In the years to follow, Murkthralog was given two more children at once. The twins Uren and Pillag were born in their internment camp. Murk vowed to keep his children and mate safe from the Humans, willing to be beaten himself than let them harm his family.

In the years that would follow, Murkthralog's Camp was liberated by a young Orc Shaman, named Thrall. He took his family, found his Father's War-Axe and joined the ranks of Thrall's New Horde. He followed his new leader where ever the Horde went. Kalimdor is where we find Murk, following the remnants of the Orcish Horde. He and his family met up with more Bleeding Hollow Members on the Coast of the Barrens, awaiting to join Thrall and the rest of the Horde. Soon enough they did.

Murkthralog was accompanied by his two eldest, Dunthra and Kathorg, remaining with the Warchief's forces in Stonetalon, fighting the Alliance there as they searched for Thrall's 'Oracle'. Murkthralog spent most of that period training the two boys and protecting them from the occasional attack by Alliance, Harpy, or Quillboar that had showed up.

He, however, had no time to waste. Murk, Dunthra, and Kathorg traveled on to protect the World Tree from the Forces of the Burning Legion. Driven with a new instinct of protection for his mate and two young children, Murkthralog proved to be quite the foe. However when the Orc's base was overrun he managed to find an area in the woods for himself, the boys, and a small mixed party of Orcs to hide and wait the battle over.

In fact when the battle was over and the Horde went to settle and build a homeland for themselves in Durotar, Murkthralog settled down with his family. It was here, in a small pig farm far from Orgrimmar. It was here he trained his four children, teaching them almost everything he had to offer. In fact when the four of them left the Farm to hunt down some quillboar, it was attacked by a coven of Burning Blade warlocks. The farm burned, swine slaughtered, and Murk's mate left dead. It was maybe the one day anyone ever saw him cry and experience emotions other then anger and rage.

Only a short time later did Murkthralog and his boys leave with the Horde on the encroaching Human Threat. At the battle of Tidefury Cove Murkthralog eagerly slew about 13 soldiers, some of his long-standing clanmates gave him the title “The Man-Slayer" So since then he has been known by that name. He partook in the Battle at Theramore, unleashing his anger and rage once more on the Humans for the many years he spent in an Internment Camp in Lordaeron.

After the battle, he took the boys to Orgrimmar and taught them the ways of the Bleeding Hollow, and to loyally serve the Horde. He also kicked their asses enough times to pass their Grunt-Tests.

In the weeks passing the Battle of Theramore, Murkthralog met up with an up-and-coming young shaman who was eager to aid the Horde. He offered a deal to the old orc saying that if Murk could get him the reagents he would empower his Axe with a special enchantment. So, managing to buy and trade for most of the reagents, Murkthralog came back to the young shaman. In the following ritual of enchantment, the shaman bonded the reagent's qualities into the weapon. Murk's axe was enchanted to help fortify his strength and stamina, in an effort to help combat his age.

In recent years, after watching Kathorg grow into a strong leader, and after burying his eldest son, Murk has withered a bit. His age has sapped his strength, his stamina, his fatigue. He makes use of his war axe like a cane as he can no longer move around without it. Murk has been watching and biding, trying to provide what knowledge or wisdom he can upon anyone around him, hoping that he does not simply just pass into the night.